Spraying the Town Orange

 

Spraying the Town Orange

 

          Preface: This piece was spawned from an exercise in senses. Given three different cards indicating three different types of senses and what was interacting with them. I had a joy of a time writing the first paragraph during that exercise, and then later I went on to finish in the following days. This piece mimics a piece I consider my best work, utilizing intense descriptors and lots of flowery language. I’m proud of how this went and how it turned out. Especially considering the climate my mental health was in during the time of writing. Shows something beautiful can still come from something damaged.

The thick aroma of orange spray paint hung low in the air of the dingey alley way. It clashed with the scent of cigarettes and the smell of cheap “spring” scented deodorant that clung to the clothes of the woman clutching the spray can in her hand. She was tapping it against her thigh as she examined the partly orange painted wall. Was she satisfied with her work? She had painted so much art on walls across the city that it was almost second nature. In that growing nature though she had gotten comfortable with “good enough,” and today her mind wasn’t quite okay with that. She raised her can and shook it with passion as the distinct clack of the metal ball inside echoed through the ally like the sounds of a surgeon’s footsteps in a cold quiet hospital hallway. With a new determination in her eyes and bubbling energy in her heart she began to spray over her original art.

          A swipe right. A twist of the hand to the left. A slight stretch up. The art taking shape, part by part and piece by piece. As she sprayed in patterns more vibrant than ever before, she began to almost taste the paint in her mouth. The flimsy cloth she draped over her mouth struggling to fight back against the outpouring of aerosolized paint in front of it. She paid no mind to it as she maintained the steady flow of paint onto her makeshift canvas. A few more dashes here and there, another line there, she took a step back to examine the whole piece and visualize what was left in her mind.

          It was almost perfect. Yet, it was missing something. Up and down she examined it, eyes scanning for what was causing her to feel it unfinished. Then it struck her. The piece wasn’t tall enough. She could only reach as far as her arms and legs would let her, and this was not enough. It needed just a bit more to be finished. Like a king it needed its crown. She craned her neck up, mind racking ideas on how to do what she envisioned. It was there that she noted the fire escape on the building. A smile crept onto her face, a twinkle shined in her eye, and an idea burst forth from the inner depths of her mind. She looked to the primary escape ladder that was weakly latched to the main stairs. If she could nock it loose, she could use it as leverage. Her eyes darted to the ground where a sizable pile of empty spray paint cans had gathered. She stepped back, picked up a can, and weighed it in her hand as the smile on her face grew larger. A chuckle crept out of her as she used her non dominant hand to aim at the latch, and with one good throw she hit it dead on.

          The ladder swung down with enough force to crack a skull. She jumped back in fear and slammed her back into the wall of the other building that formed the alley. She groaned in pain, but looked up to see that the ladder had come to a stop. It was in the perfect position. The expression of pain changed to one of almost childlike excitement as she grabbed some full cans of paint and hopped up a few rungs of the ladder. From here she was able to properly crown her art with no limits. Again the alley was filled with the sounds of spraying and the smells of paint. Piece by piece it came closer to completion, closer to perfection. Just one more splash there and another twinge of blue there… and it was finished.

She dropped off the ladder and stepped back to examine the finished piece. It was a scene of cityscape at sunset and at the center of it was a skyscraper on fire, smoke billowing out and fading into the sky. If she had not been able to use that ladder she would have never been able to perfectly show the fading light from the sunset in the sky, and she was happy she took the risk to get it done. She took the mask off her face and for once her smile could be seen by the world that was this alley. She was proud of herself, perhaps this was her finest work yet.

In a flash she had gathered all her supplies together and sealed them away in her bag which she threw over her shoulder with a thump. She checked her watch and saw that she was going to be late for the 2:30am train back home. With that she ran to the exit of the alley, but not without turning around one last time to look at her work. She softly smiled one last time before running off into the night. To the law, it was a crime, to some, it was an eyesore, to others, it was a political statement, but to her… it was art.